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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22876705">In a Galaxy Far, Far Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinkisducklings/pseuds/Jinkisducklings'>Jinkisducklings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SHINee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Phone Sex, University, they're idiots alright but they love each other and figure it all out lmao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:53:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22876705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinkisducklings/pseuds/Jinkisducklings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jinki replies to user Choisbest99, he expected a fun internet argument. Not to find someone to love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Minho/Lee Jinki | Onew, Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Taemin, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Winter of SHINee</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In a Galaxy Far, Far Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was one of my stories for the Winterfest of fic thingy. My prompt was #86 which wanted the two of them to be passionate about some game, anime or movie, and I chose star wars (for the simple fact I know a decent amount about it) I hope you like it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>             Jinki rested his crossed feet on the pillow on top of the wooden coffee table, Xbox controller resting loosely in his hands as he flicked through the game menu. Kibum would absolutely bust a gasket if he saw the ‘no feet on the table’ rule being broken yet again, but he wasn’t home for another few hours. Jinki supposed that was one good thing about having a roommate that was in a serious enough relationship. Most nights that he didn’t have homework, work at the bookstore on campus or assignments to grade for the two glasses he was being a teaching assistant in Kibum was out with said boyfriend. The downside was sometimes Jinki had to go to bed with earplugs or go without knowing through the sexy song remix playing he could hear his roommate getting fucked into oblivion. If it hadn’t been almost a year and a half since Jinki had sex, he might have been happy for the man. </p><p>             His beer was resting on the ceramic coaster on the table, condensation dripping down the neck of the glass bottle and pooling around the bottom. For Christmas, the year before Jinki’s parents had gifted him the small sectional after saying the piece of furniture he had the audacity to call a couch was very sad. For his pride’s sake, he denied it was the best thing he had. </p><p>             As Battlefront II loaded, he lifted the beer to his lips for a quick sip. The amber liquid wasn’t his beverage of choice, but it was on sale at the gas station on the corner from their apartment. Jinki had definitely had worse throughout his college experience. Heroes vs. Villains began loading and Jinki flicked the right knob on the controller out of boredom. Once it loaded he quickly flicked over until it hovered over Obi-wan, locking in his choice just as fast. Maul was his favorite when it came to the villains, but he bought this game primarily to be able to play Obi-wan.</p><p>             The timer was ticking down to start when Jinki gave a glance to the stack of essays he had to grade for the class he was teaching this semester sticking from the top of his backpack. Dr. Choi expected them on her desk in less than three days’ time on Tuesday morning. Should he be grading them than playing this game? Yes. Was he the best at time management decisions? Not even close. </p><p>             One more quick swig of beer and the game started, a soft grin pulling at his lips as he focused on the television screen.</p><p>-----</p><p>             Rain pelleted against the top of his umbrella, water splashing around his leather boots with each step toward the Social Science building on campus. He looked up from the puddles he was trying to avoid when he heard his name over the whistling wind of the upcoming storm. “Jinki! Wait up!”</p><p>             He squinted through the water splatters on his glasses he had yet to manage to wipe off to see Kibum dashing through the people, hood over his light-colored dyed hair. Jinki stopped, a sigh blowing past his lips knowing full well what his roommate was going to reply before the question was even asked. “Yes, Kibum?” </p><p>             The younger man grinned as he ducked under the lip of the umbrella. “Let me bum your cover.”</p><p>             Kibum fell in line with him, huddled closer to keep out of the rain as they moved toward the door on the far left of the building. “Where’s yours?”</p><p>             “Left it at Taemin’s in my rush to get here on time.” </p><p>             Jinki raised an eyebrow as Kibum held open the door for him and he shook the umbrella dry. “He lost it, didn’t he?”</p><p>             “Possibly.”</p><p>             Shaking his head, he pushed the umbrella down with the palm of his hand. “That means yes.” </p><p>             “Shut up.”</p><p>             The main psychology lab was empty as they entered, dropping their bags and coats onto their chosen chairs. That wasn’t abnormal this early in the morning, but Jinki had to finish grading the last few essays before Dr. Choi got into her office in almost ninety minutes. “Hey, he’s your boyfriend.” </p><p>             Kibum ran his fingers through his cut short to the scalp hair before pulling out his planner from his heavy backpack against the table legs under them. He waved the pen he pulled from the spiral of the planner with a smirk. “At least I have a boyfriend. You’re starting to gain cobwebs, Old Man.” </p><p>             Jinki slowly unscrewed the cap of his thermos, clearing his throat as he did so. “I’m not much for skinny pretty boys.”</p><p>             “Ah yes, you like tall hunks.”</p><p>             His face twisted as the taste of the coffee in the thermos. In his haste to leave that morning, he had added way too much cream. He screwed the cap back on and frowned as he pushed it away with two fingers. “What can I say, I enjoy being warm when I’m held.” </p><p>             Kibum gently snorts, writing something in his planner before looking up again. “Can you still help me with my experiment later?” </p><p>             “What time is it?” </p><p>             “2:30.” </p><p>             Jinki flicked his eyes up to the ceiling for a moment as he mentally went through his day. “I might be a little late. I have that meeting with Dr. Choi over my dissertation at 1:45.”  </p><p>             “You’re the best.” </p><p>             With a grin, Jinki smacked the three essays on the table, red pen clicking against the surface. “Oh, don’t I know it.” </p><p>------</p><p>             While the game updated, Jinki looked through the questions on the official forum for it. A few questions were outright ridiculous. It made him laugh out loud, but one caught his eye. ‘<em> Why Obi-wan is the worst addition to play’. </em>While he’d agree that he was difficult to play correctly, once one did Obi-wan was amazing to play. The original poster, Choisbest99, went on to explain why he figured Obi-wan was the worst. Including things like his special attacks weren’t as great as the others, and it was difficult to perfect. With two beers already in his system and memories of that nasty woman at the bookstore today, he clicked reply with a smirk. </p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> If you learn to perfect how you play him Obi-wan IS the best choice to play, but I think you’d rather complain about how hard it is than learn. </em></p><p>             He went back to the main forum page, scrolling slowly to read titles when a little notification was seen at the top of his page. Apparently Choisbest99 was online and ready to argue. Jinki sipped his beer slowly as the page loaded completely. It was then he realized that it wasn’t a reply to the original post, but a private message.</p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99</em> </b> <em> : What the actual fuck is your username?  </em></p><p>             Well, that wasn’t what he expected. Jinki placed his beer on the table before typing out a reply.</p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> A random set of letters or insta old man written out on a Korean keyboard, depending on your point of view :)  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> Oh my God </em></p><p>------</p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl</em> </b> <em> : Qui-gon was a grade-A asshole.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> Explain </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl</em> </b> <em> : He finds this boy, a slave and frees him because of some prophecy but doesn’t try harder for his mother? The way he just threw Obi-wan away to train Anakin right in front of him? Grade-A asshole. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> He thought he was the chosen one and no one was going to let him stay </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Does not negate how asshole of a move it was </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> You sound like you have a lot of thoughts about this </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl</em> </b> <em> :... I perhaps have a few </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> Then tell me them. I have all night </em></p><p>             A slow grin pulled at Jinki’s lips as his fingers rested over the laptop keyboard. He didn’t know who Choisbest99 was, but it seemed so easy to talk to them. Kibum only put up with so much of his ‘star wars rambling’ as the man liked to put it. It was nice to have someone he could talk to about his opinions and thoughts in an open and understanding environment. It had only been a few weeks of increasingly frequent conversation. </p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> If you insist </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99</em> </b> <em> : :) I do </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Alright so first… </em></p><p>             Kibum finds him curled up on his bed, the laptop screen black but still resting on his thighs, and the lights of the room still on. With a shake of his head, he turns the laptop completely off, closes it to place it on the desk, and helps Jinki lay as flat as he can get him onto the bed. It wasn’t an odd occurrence for either of them to find the other fallen asleep in the middle of something on the laptop. Jinki had put him to bed enough times Kibum just thought it was fair to do the same. A blanket was pulled up and tossed over him before Kibum flicked the lights off on his way out.</p><p>----</p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> No, no Qui-gon being Anakin’s master wouldn’t have stopped the fall. If anything that would have been a disaster </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99</em> </b> <em> : How so? </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Qui-gon ‘bets the mission on a boy racing’ Jinn, who would not hear it when Anakin was refused to be trained over some prophecy. Anakin would come in at like two in the morning and be like “I have a bad nightmare about the world ending” and Qui-gon would have immediately been like alright TELL ME everything.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> But Anakin fell because he couldn’t give up his attachments. Don’t you think Qui-gon was better at that than Obi-wan? </em> <em><br/></em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Qui-gon almost didn’t want to train Obi-wan because he was letting his attachment and what happened with his previous padawan affect his thoughts. The reason Palpatine needed Obi-wan away from Coruscant when order 66 went out and the turning point of Anakin, was because of how important he was in stabilizing the anger in Anakin. Qui-gon would have... Given Anakin anything he asked for and that’s not what he needed. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> So you believe that if Obi-wan had been at the temple when this was all going down, that Anakin wouldn’t have fallen? </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> If it wasn’t for the wrinkly evil walnut and the Council’s senate ass-kissing, Anakin would never have fallen. It wasn’t Obi-wan’s teaching or his lack of care for him.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em>  Obi-wan cared deeply for Anakin, was open with praising him, and asking how he was feeling. If Anakin had made the decision before or during the fight on Mustafar to simply ask for help Obi-wan would have given it to him. He spent that entire fight just waiting for Anakin to come to his senses.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Qui-gon was horrible with voicing his praise to Obi-wan even if he thought of them all the time. That would have never worked with Anakin.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> Wrinkly evil walnut, huh?  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> He is </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> Alright, I concede.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Why did you think Qui-gon would have done a better job? </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> He didn’t try to be the model Jedi. He broke the rules when he thought the force called for it. I think he’d understand Anakin more. Might have listened to him about his dreams, about his mother and his wife. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Anakin never says that his dreams are about his mother’s death. Just that he’s been having dreams, and Obi-wan is visibly worried about him, these dreams and the lack of sleep his apprentice is getting. And Evil Walnut made it so Anakin couldn’t tell Obi-wan about his dreams about Padm </em> <em> é </em> <em> because he was sent to fight Grievous.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> I guess I’ll have to rewatch that movie </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> &gt;:D You’ll find I’m right. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> Snorts. We’ll see. </em></p><p>
  <em> ----- </em>
</p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99: </em> </b> <em> Alright don’t let it make your ego bigger than it is already but maybe you were right. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> :D is that so? </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> Anakin was a bit of a brat wasn’t he? </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Do not get me started. I could write an entire novel on the only reasons Padm</em><em>é </em><em>chose Anakin over Obi-wan were, Luke and Leia had to happen and it was written by a straight man.  </em></p><p><b>              Choisbest99</b>: Elaborate</p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> First Obi-wan is well Obi-wan. He has a beard and is all </em>fucking pretty. When she sees him she’s so happy and then she turns to Anakin and is like ‘You’ll always be the boy I met on Tatooine’. And then she tells him to stop looking at her like that while packing because it makes her uncomfortable.</p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> You just really like Obi-wan </em></p><p><b><em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl:</em></b><em> I won’t disagree.</em> <em>Idk from my perspective as a very gay man, Obi-wan can get it. </em></p><p>             Jinki bit his lip as he realized what he had typed. It was the modern age and being gay wasn’t as frowned upon as it once was, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t discrimination. He liked talking to Choisbest99, whoever they may be, and he didn’t want his sexuality to be the reason they stopped wanting to talk to him at all. As he began to type his panicked reply, the little dots were shown by Choisbest99’s name. </p><p><b>              Choisbest99</b>: TBH same </p><p>             It was the first really personal thing they had shared with each other. All of their conversations had been about Star Wars and the game, but Jinki didn’t mind the shift. He wanted to know more about the person he was talking with. They talked almost every day, that should warrant being able to call each other friends, right? He was too sober for this being bold shit.</p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Have you heard of Kakaotalk?  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> like the messaging app?  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Yes </em></p><p><b> <em>             Choisbest99:</em> </b> <em> yeah, I have cousins who strictly use it. </em></p><p>             Jinki’s fingers hovered over the keys of his laptop with a deep breath. His jaw was clenched as he typed out his question.</p><p><b> <em>             Dlstmxkakwldrl: </em> </b> <em> Mine is under the same username if you want to talk about more than just star wars </em></p><p>             The dots begin to rotate again and Jinki feels like his stomach is in knots. He glances at the time in the bottom corner with a sigh, clicking out of the chat accepting a reply wasn’t coming any time soon. Better yet, he really should start going through the responses for his study. He turned off his laptop, slipping it back into the back flap of his backpack, before grabbing the huge manilla folder full of participants’ surveys. Plopping them on to their small kitchen table he headed into the kitchen for a snack and a refill on his iced tea. He had a long night ahead of him but better thinking about his study than the rejection of friendship he had offered to Choisbest99. </p><p>             Just as he was about to sit down at the table his phone pinged from where he left it on the couch. Kibum was visiting his parents who had a ‘no phone after six’ rule, so it couldn’t be him. His own parents liked to call more than text. Curiosity got the better of him then, so with a grunt, he went to snatch the phone from it’s resting place, turning it on with the button on the side. The Kakaotalk symbol was the first thing he saw. Just when he was about to swipe it to check it out later, he saw Choi on the screen. Granted it said Minho Choi, but could it just be a coincidence between the two? He unlocked the phone completely with his fingerprint, flicking open the app and clicking the new chatroom.</p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> Hi, I really hope there aren’t two people in the world with weird-ass similar usernames. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee: </em> </b> <em> That depends. You Choisbest99?  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: :) </em> </b> <em> So your name is Jinki, huh?  </em></p><p><b>              Jinki Lee</b>: Only on Tuesdays.</p><p>             While Minho replied to his message he took the time to click his profile and look at the photos he had. Dark hair, big eyes, and a half lopsided grin. He was handsome in Jinki’s opinion and looked rather tall in comparison to the background of each photo. Most of them he was wearing at least one scarf at all times. How cute. He pushed the back arrow on the bottom of his phone to get back into the chat and smiled. </p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> Well it’s not Tuesday, what should I call you?  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> I haven’t figured that out yet </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> Then tell me something other than your name </em></p><p>             That was a very open-ended question that Jinki could take in various ways. Was this why the only friend he had was one he met when he was a toddler? Was this the reason he was single? Jinki shook his head. No need to get self-deprecating.</p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> I’m a 26-year-old very tired Ph.D. student. I play battlefront to focus my mind on something other than statistics.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> What are you studying? </em></p><p>             Before Jinki could reply, another message popped onto his screen.</p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> I’m 24, also a very tired grad student. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee: </em> </b> <em> Quantitative Psychology  </em></p><p><b>              Minho Choi</b>: Oh gross. Is that a lot of numbers?</p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> Its basically all numbers </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> :P much gross. Much eww </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee: </em> </b> <em> And what do you study that doesn’t have to do with numbers? </em></p><p><b>              Minho Choi</b>: Education, histories specifically.</p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee: </em> </b> <em> That’s a lot of dates and those are numbers aren’t they :P </em></p><p>             He expected a type of comeback, a sassy remark or an emotion. When Minho finally responded it wasn’t any of those things, instead it was a compliment.</p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> You’re cute, even if some of your photos are blurry </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee: </em> </b> <em> Thanks... I think. </em></p><p>             The reply was slow coming but Jinki placed his phone on the table screen up by the stack of surveys. He’d respond periodically while going through scoring the papers before him, but there was a smile on his face at the idea Minho thought he was cute.</p><p>-----</p><p>             Warmth rushed to Jinki’s cheeks as he looked down at the photo Minho had sent. It was of him post-workout, damp hair pushed off his forehead, and tank top low on his chest. Behind him were dark blue lockers that reminded Jinki of the gym on campus. It should be completely illegal for someone to look that good all sweaty, or maybe Jinki was just too gay and too lonely to handle it. He pushed his lemonade up onto the cafe table without looking and typed back.</p><p>
  <b>             <em> Jinki Lee</em></b>
  <em>: That’s a thirst trap if I’ve ever seen one </em>
</p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> Well, you tell me. Are you thirsty? </em></p><p>             He was really happy he had already swallowed the lemonade that was in his mouth, otherwise, he might have choked. Jinki peeked up at Kibum across from him, making sure the other man hadn’t noticed how red he knew he had become. Luckily, Kibum was looking at the book in his hand. Apparently he and Taemin had started reading a book together and he was behind on the chapter count.</p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee: </em> </b> <em> You’re very attractive, I’ll admit. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> Don’t sound so reluctant lol </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> Don’t be so cocky :P </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> You’re very attractive too. Your smile is breathtaking.  </em></p><p>             It was only when he noticed Kibum’s book being lowered to his lap and the rise of the man’s eyebrow that Jinki realized the noise he had made wasn’t just internally. “And what, pray tell, was that?” </p><p>             “Uh, there was a, um, bug.” </p><p>             “A bug?”</p><p>             “Yeah.”</p><p>             Kibum took a sip of his iced coffee slowly without breaking eye contact. “Jinki, you had a spider as a pet when you were in grade school.” </p><p>             Sometimes he really wished he hadn’t known Kibum that long. Jinki sighed dejectedly before admitting, “I’m half talking to someone.” </p><p>             “That’s great! Wait,” Kibum placed his drink back on the table and closed his book after putting the bookmark into it. “What does half talking mean?” </p><p>             “It means that I’m talking to them and he likes my smile, but we haven’t talked about what that means for whatever our relationship is currently.” </p><p>             “Do you like him, Jinki?” </p><p>             “Yeah,” He found it easy to admit, even with the blush on his cheeks and the smile on his face talking about Minho always seemed easy. “He’s really sweet. He’s so passionate about what he’s studying and what he wants to do with it. As pathetic as it sounds, it’s really nice that he always takes the time to ask me how I am and listens when I say I’m not fine. I like.. Being able to say that I’m not fine.” </p><p>             Kibum reaches over the small metal table to grip Jinki’s hand with a soft smile, “Then tell him. Talk to him about how he makes you feel. It won’t move anywhere until someone says something.” </p><p>             He took a deep breath before typing out his message. Once it was sent, he quickly exited the app, locked his phone and placed it screen down on the table. Kibum barked out a laugh at the action, making Jinki pout. “Shut up.” </p><p>             “I’m so proud of you.” He had that glint in his eye that made Jinki far too nervous. “I was beginning to think you playing that game all the time would make you forever alone.”</p><p>             If Kibum only knew.</p><p>-----</p><p>             Returning back to campus Jinki was too busy running experiments to check his phone. It only occurred to him what could be waiting for him once he plopped face-first into his mattress once he got home. Rejection could be waiting. Minho could not want to explore something more and Jinki wasn’t sure how he was going to take that. Would it make their friendship awkward? He rather enjoyed the way they picked a random comic to read together and discussing it afterward. Or the way they would check out the same books from the library and talk about what they wished was canon again from the Star Wars Legends. He liked having someone else to talk to. Kibum was just as busy if not more than he was, and sometimes Jinki felt like he was more of a bother than anything to him. </p><p>             Jinki rolled onto his back, pulling his phone from his pocket. Three missed messages from Minho. He swallowed thickly, eyes closed for a moment as he tried to prepare himself to see the worst-case scenario. Letting out a heavy breath his eyes opened and the phone was unlocked. Kakaotalk was up on the screen. He quickly tapped their chatroom with the red three by it.</p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> I like you a lot too Jinki. If you want to explore something deeper, I’d really like that </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> I’ve thought about asking you out for a while now, but I didn’t know if you’d go for the online thing or if you were interested in me like that. I didn’t want to say something and make you pull away. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> You mean a whole lot to me Jinki. I’ve never felt this way about someone I’ve only seen through pictures.  </em></p><p>             The last message read three hours before. Guilt swirled in Jinki’s tummy as he thought about what to say. He had left Minho in the middle of a big conversation for hours. He couldn’t even imagine the amount of overthinking he would do in that situation. </p><p>
  <b>             <em> Jinki Lee</em></b>
  <em>: I’m so sorry- My dumbass scheduled three groups of participants tonight. I wasn’t ignoring you I promise.  </em>
</p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> I might have worried that was the case, possibly. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> I’m sorry.  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> I might have also been afraid of seeing you reject my feelings. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi: </em> </b> <em> Even if I didn’t return your feelings, I wouldn’t have stopped being friends with you. </em></p><p><b> <em>             Jinki Lee:</em> </b> <em> Do you want to be my boyfriend Minho?  </em></p><p><b> <em>             Minho Choi:</em> </b> <em> &lt;3 very much so </em></p><p>------</p><p>             It’s staring at the photo he has of Minho as his screensaver that makes him ask for Kibum’s help. The other man looked up from his veggie wrap with a wrinkled nose. “You want my help with what?” </p><p>             “Taking a nice photo to send to Minho.”</p><p>             “Why?”</p><p>             “I really like him, but all mine come out blurry because my hands shake too much.” He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.” </p><p>             Before Jinki knows it, he’s being tugged up by the crook of his elbow and his phone is taken from his hand. Kibum is standing there with one hand on his hip. “Alright, lean against the wall. Let’s get your Boo a photo.” </p><p>             A bright grin blossoms on his face at the words. Kibum quickly rises the phone, smiling over the edge as it lowers once again. A few photos are taken with pointers from his friend. When he looks through them, Kibum helps him decide which one’s are the best and what filter if any to use. The first photo he sends though is the one Kibum took before them all, the candid image of him beaming from ear to ear. It’s that one over all of them that Minho sends a screenshot of showing how it’s his phone’s screensaver.</p><p>-----</p><p>             As the weeks turned into months, Jinki found himself falling deeply in love with Minho. Their text conversations had shifted to phone calls and video chats. Now doing either of those things was easy, but Jinki could remember the mirrored red faces the first time they had skyped each other. Minho had been sitting at his desk, chest bare of a shirt but a robe resting on his shoulders. He was utterly beautiful in the blue-tinted computer light. Then again, he always was. </p><p>             Minho’s drowsy voice in his ear took him from his thoughts. <em> “I don’t understand how you’re so good at him.” </em> </p><p>             “It’s my good looks.” </p><p>             “<em>Sure Babe.”  </em></p><p>             He let his controller fall to his lap, the game forgotten for a moment as he realized how exhausted his boyfriend sounded. “You sound really tired, Baby. Maybe you should get some rest.” </p><p>             “<em>I </em><em>was up all night last night finishing up that project. I promised I’d play with you tonight.”  </em></p><p>             “That’s alright. Please go get some rest.” </p><p>             “<em>I will on one condition.” </em> Jinki saved his game before pulling out his phone. Minho’s number was pulled up as the man spoke again. <em> “Will you talk to me until I fall asleep?”  </em></p><p>             He pushed the call button with a smile, the grin widening as Minho half squeaked on the other end of the headset when his phone began to ring. “Of course.” </p><p>             Sometimes staying on the phone was impractical, but it was almost like falling asleep and waking up beside each other. When they could, they did it. There was nothing better than the way Minho sleepily said his name in the morning, all happy and soft once he realized he was still on the phone. By the time the consoles were turned off, controllers put on the charger and both of them were comfy in bed, Jinki could feel sleep tugging on his own consciousness. Minho’s voice is barely a whisper, words slow as he fights sleep just a little while longer. “<em>I love you, Babe.” </em></p><p>             Thinking back on it, Jinki isn’t sure when saying I love you became normal for them. He remembers how they first said it, one late night coming home from the library to a phone full of cat photos to cheer him up and Jinki had replied, <em> Jesus Christ I love you so much. </em>Since then neither liked to go a day without telling the other how they felt. “I love you more. Goodnight Baby.” </p><p>-----</p><p>             Jinki held the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he wiggled the key into the lock. There were soft voices inside the apartment as he pushed the door open. He placed the grocery and take out bags on the kitchen counter and looked toward the living room to find Kibum and Taemin tossing popcorn into each other’s mouths. “Don’t all get up at once to help.” </p><p>             “<em>The Duo at the apartment again?” </em>Minho quietly asks through the phone.</p><p>             “Yeah. Taemin’s over here to supposedly get help with his grad applications, but I think they’re just getting popcorn into my couch.” He glared as Kibum slipped around the counter with a big grin. “But how’s preparing dinner for your Mom going?” </p><p>
  <em>              “As well as can be expected. I haven’t burnt the chicken yet.”  </em>
</p><p>             Jinki worked on getting the groceries out of the cloth bags so Kibum could put them away in their correct place. “Don’t burn the chicken. I can’t date someone who burns the chicken.” </p><p>             Taemin leaned on the opposite side of the counter, a shit-eating grin on his face. That was never a good sign. “You’re dating someone?”</p><p>             Jinki’s hands softly fell to the countertop as he replied slowly, “I am.” </p><p>             “That’s wicked.” The younger man turned toward his boyfriend with a pout. “Why didn’t you tell me your hermit of a roommate was dating someone?”</p><p>             “Because it’s none of your business, Babe.” Kibum calmly stated, head half in the fridge as he reached as far as he could for the butter that fell. </p><p>             Jinki rolled his eyes before returning to his phone call. “I’ll call you once I have the food put away, alright? I love you.”</p><p>
  <em>              “I love you too. Good luck.”  </em>
</p><p>             He barked out a light laugh. “Thanks.” </p><p>             The phone call hadn’t even ended yet before Taemin was leaning further on his elbows and asking, “When can we meet him?”</p><p>             “It’s not-” Jinki opened and closed his mouth before pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “It’s long distance.” </p><p>             The smile fell from Taemin’s face as he straightened. “Oh.” </p><p>             Jinki passed the eggs to Kibum before scowling. “What’s that supposed to mean?” </p><p>             “Nothing just- you’ve never met him and you think you love him?” </p><p>             “Taemin!” Kibum hissed. </p><p>             “No, no it’s alright.” He hummed, fingers curling nervously in the fabric of his pants before he looked over what still had to be put away. Just some fruit that could stay on the counter for the time being and the bread. Once he had his takeout from the bag, he flashed a little smile at the two. “I’ll just be in my room. It’s good to see you again, Taemin.” </p><p>             Jinki glanced at his phone as he took a seat at his desk. He wanted to call Minho like he said he would, but his chest felt heavy. Minho was to have dinner with his mother and had been looking forward to cooking for her for weeks. Jinki couldn’t bear to bring the man down before that. He’d call after, see how it went. Until then, he twirled his noodles on his fork and tried to push out Taemin’s words swirling around in his head. </p><p>------</p><p>
  <em>              “You alright, Babe?” </em>
</p><p>             In the dim light the computer screen gave off, Jinki knew Minho probably couldn’t see much of his face when he was turned away. Still, he laid on his back and stared up at the dark ceiling. “You love me right?”</p><p><em>              “I do.” </em> A creak of a mattress was softly heard from the other side and Jinki slowly turned his head to look at the screen. Minho had scooted closer to the computer, his big eyes clearly visible as he put up the brightness. “ <em> What’s wrong?”  </em></p><p>             “Taemin made it seem like I couldn’t love you if I’ve never met you in person today. I just-” He turned onto his side, curling his blanket tighter around him and flashed a little smile. “I just needed a little reassurance I guess.” </p><p><em>              “I love you. Distance doesn’t change how real what we feel is.” </em> Minho frowned. “ <em> I wish I could kiss you.” </em></p><p>             Jinki kissed his fingers and pressed them lightly against the camera lens at the top of the laptop with a smile. Once Minho returned the action, he said. “One day we will.” </p><p>------</p><p>             The only light in the room was the vanilla candle lit on his bedside table. The comforter was pushed down by his ankles. It had gotten unbearably hot as the phone call turned sexual and he had kicked it away as Minho whimpered through the phone. While Kibum was out of the apartment, Minho hadn’t been that lucky. His roommate was asleep in the other room. “I wish you were alone. I just want to hear you completely Baby. You’re always so loud when you let yourself go.”</p><p>
  <em>              “Jinki, please I-”  </em>
</p><p>             His eyelashes fluttered as he groaned loudly. Minho saying his name breathlessly always went straight to his cock. It’s how they got into the mess to begin with. With gentle, non-purposeful strokes along his dick, Jinki breathed heavily through his nose. “If I was there, I’d let you ride my face until you came. Eat that cute little ass of yours out. Let your roommate know how much you love it.” </p><p>
  <em>              “Fuck. I’m so close, Jinki just, I wish you could fuck me.”  </em>
</p><p>             “How do you want me to fuck you, Baby?”</p><p>             “<em>Bend me over the nearest surface,” </em> Minho sucked in a harsh breath, the wetness of his strokes clear as day through the phone. “ <em> I want you gripping my hips, feel you cum in me.”  </em></p><p>             Jinki could vividly picture that, bending Minho’s long frame in half and making him whine with how hard he was gripping his narrow hips. His hand moved quickly over his cock at the idea of cumming in him. “You want to feel me dripping out of you?” </p><p><em>              “Oh Fuck, Fuck Jinki-” </em> His voice cuts off abruptly, replaced with a deep muffled groan as Minho bites into the clean sock to quiet himself down. The bed squeaking tells Jinki that Minho is fucking up into his hand as he cums. It’s the image of Minho cumming, that he’s seen too many times to forget, that pushes Jinki over the edge, finishing all over his fist and a little on his happy trail. Minho is quietly laughing through the phone, voice hazy and soft. <em> “I made a mess.” </em></p><p>             Jinki couldn’t help but snort as his hand comes to a stop on his softening cock. “Me too Baby.”</p><p>----</p><p>             Meeting with Professor Choi was either a great experience or one that leaves Jinki sitting in the corner of his room cradling a beer against his lips and debating whether or not he chose his major correctly. Sitting in the chair opposite her eating one of the cookies her husband had made the prior night made it more the former. She was looking over the edits he had made the section she had sent his way the week before. “Everything seems to be in order. There’s a part in the second paragraph that reads a little odd.” </p><p>             He covered his mouth with the napkin he had taken from the adjacent psychology lab and asked, “Which part?” </p><p>             She looked up and chuckled, “Finish the cookie and come around to look.”</p><p>             “Sorry.” A few crumbs fell from his bottom lip causing her to laugh a little more. He finished chewing the rest of it and wiped his mouth, smiling after drinking some of his water. “It was really good.”</p><p>             “I’ll give the chef your compliments.” As he rounded the desk she scooted her chair toward the right. Her well-manicured finger pointed toward the sentence in question. “It seems important to have it in the paragraph, but I’m not sure how to shift its format to make it smoother.” </p><p>             “I see what you mean, Professor.” His glasses slipped down his nose then and as he moved to push them up he caught sight of the photographs he usually sees the back of. One was of her and what he assumed was her husband. It was the one beside it that made Jinki half choke on his own tongue. The young man in the photo had a grad cap on his head, and although his face was scrunched from the Professor kissing his cheek Jinki knew it well. That was Minho, his Minho. The man he had been talking to for the better part of the year and the one just the night before he had said he wanted to eat out. Oh, Jesus Christ, he wanted to do filthy things to his advisor’s son. He HAD done filthy things with him. </p><p>             Professor Choi was twisted towards him, concern visible on her kind features. “Jinki, are you alright?” </p><p>             “Ye-yeah. I’m fine, Professor.”</p><p>             “Are you sure?” Her hand was slightly cool as it rested on top of his on her desk. “You look like you might pass out.”</p><p>             “Is uh that your son?”</p><p>             She slowly moved her gaze from his face to the picture in question, and a smile bloomed across her lips. “Yeah, that’s my youngest, Minho. He’s in the Doctoral Education program here.” </p><p>             “Here?” He swallowed thickly, feeling as if a big hole was about to open up underneath him. “As in this university?” </p><p>             “Yes.” Her nose scrunched as she looked back up at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” </p><p>             “I uh,” He licked his lips nervously, hands shaking a little. “I think I need to go lay down for a bit.” </p><p>             “Alright. I hope you feel better.” </p><p>             If he said thank you, he couldn’t remember as he grabbed his bag and headed out of the door. Minho was here, so close he could get there in less than twenty minutes across campus. How could he talk to him for almost nine months and never ask where he went to school? For fuck’s sake, they had seen each other orgasm and they didn’t ask what state they lived in? People were blurs as he walked past them, their faces not registering as his feet took him anywhere but his Professor’s office. When he finally looked up and focused he realized where he had walked. The Education Department. </p><p>             “How may I help you- Shit.” </p><p>             Jinki whipped his head toward the oddly familiar voice and gripped the doorframe when he realized the owner of the voice was Minho. He was sitting at the front desk, a paper wrap spread on the table before him and what looked like the toppings of a hoagie sandwich sliding down the front of his shirt. His eyes though, so big and beautiful and warm, were on Jinki. “I’m sorry.” He smiles nervously then, lifting his hand to wiggle a few fingers. “ Also, hi. Nice to meet you.” </p><p>             A single pickle was sliding down the open collar of his shirt, but Minho just sat there completely still. “What the fuck.” </p><p>             “Your uh Mom sent me.” Jinki scratches the back of his neck, avoiding the steady gaze of the other man. “Kind of. That doesn’t matter.”</p><p>             “Huh?”</p><p>             “Your Mother is my advisor. For my dissertation.” </p><p>             “My Mom is- WAIT YOU GO HERE?”</p><p>             “Volume, Mr. Choi.” Jinki looks over to find a middle-aged man leaning into one of the office doorways. </p><p>             “Sorry, Dr. Smith.” Once the Professor had returned into his office completely, Minho grumbled quietly, as if he only then realized his sandwich was spilled down the front of his shirt. “My sandwich.” </p><p>             Jinki had so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t make his mouth work properly. Why was he like this? Of all the nasty things he had moaned through a phone call at the other man, he should be able to talk to him about <em> feelings. </em>“I’ll make it up to you. If you go to dinner with me.” </p><p>             “Given our conversation last night, taking me to dinner is the least you can do.” Minho raises his eyebrows for a moment before winking. “Maybe do some of the things you wished you could last night.”</p><p>             “Very optimistic with pickles on your chest.” </p><p>             Minho snorted, “Of course I’ll go to dinner with you.”</p><p>-----</p><p>             The entire night felt more like a dream than reality. Just that morning Jinki had woken up to a simple, <em> Wish I was waking up with you, </em>text from Minho and now he was holding the man’s hand as they walked up to his apartment dropping him off. Their footsteps slow as they approached the right door, but even as they come to a stop Minho doesn’t let go of his hand. He pushes the key into the door, turns it, but doesn’t remove it from the lock. “I had a really nice time tonight.”</p><p>             “Yeah, me too.” Why was Minho looking at him like that? He couldn’t place the expression, but it made Jinki’s toes curl in his shoes.</p><p>              His hand comes up to cup Jinki’s cheek as he let’s go of his keys. “Can I kiss you?” </p><p>             “Please.” He breathes out, just before Minho is closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together. Jinki feels him moving his arms, wrapping them tightly around his waist and pulling him flush against his body. The kisses deepened with the movement, and Jinki groaned softly against his lips. When Minho finally pulled away, there was that goofy grin on his face. God, he was beautiful. A gentle kiss was pressed to Jinki’s forehead, Minho lingering for a moment as he quietly stated. “I’m so glad I met you.” </p><p>             With a little laugh, Jinki presses his forehead into Minho’s chest, not wanting to move further from his embrace just yet. “I can’t believe you’re really here. I always thought I’d have to fly to you.” </p><p>             “Promise me we will be better at communicating.” Minho’s lips ghost over his ear, light chuckles tickling against his skin. “We’re such fucking idiots. Talking for as long as we have without knowing we go to the same damn school.” </p><p>             “I promise.” </p><p>             He wasn’t sure where they were heading, or how it would work dating his Professor and Advisor’s son, but he couldn’t wait to find out. He loved Minho, loved the way he was with him, and loved the type of person being with the man made him. “Do you want to come inside?” </p><p>             The question could mean many things, but no matter the context it meant the night wasn’t over. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. “Yeah, I’d like that.” </p><p>             And Kibum teased him that playing battlefront would never get him a boyfriend. Oh, how wrong he was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had more planned, but time ran short and I left it open-ended to allow myself the ability to come back and explore them more.</p><p>Also God Bless Ao3 taking the format for italics and bold from the original document.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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